Lessons From Underground

by Bryan Methods

  “It’s good to see you too,” said Miss Gaunt, though as usual it was hard to tell if she meant it or if she was being polite. “Zhao-Ji said you would be bored, so I should keep you entertained.”

  “Well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to . . .”

  “Ah, I should have said first that I’d rather talk with you as well. I’ve already read the agenda for the meeting and I know what they’re all going to say. Nothing will be decided today, but we will be a little closer than before.”

  “You and Miss Cai are still trying to form the international police force, then? I suppose it’s not easy to convince a crowd like that. They wouldn’t listen to me, of course. I’m not old or beardy enough.”

  “Perhaps the problem is that Zhao-Ji isn’t either.” I expected a smile from Miss Gaunt as she said this, but she looked back to the door wistfully. “If they only listened to her, this would all have been decided months ago.”

  “I’m not sure we should be here,” I said. “Mr. Jackdaw said it was a kind of reward for us for helping him, but I think they want to pretend Mr. Scant works for them.”

  Miss Gaunt gave a thoughtful little nod. “They all know who my uncle is by now. It may not seem like it to you, but the operation in China last summer was an excellent example of nations sharing information and working together. And Zhao-Ji and I have argued it would be an even better example had we shared more from the beginning. The idea that we all had to rely on a civilian as much as we did, one who may or may not have a criminal past, is embarrassing for proud men. And women, for that matter.”

  “It sounds as though you don’t like these people very much.”

  “Does it? Oh dear, I’m not good at hiding my feelings.”

  I tried not to laugh. “That’s kind of sweet, in a way.”

  Miss Gaunt shot me an irritated look, and for a moment unnervingly resembled her uncle. “I don’t want to be sweet.”

  “Sorry.”

  She gave a little shrug, then looked over the numerous red marks on my fencing jacket. “Have you spoken to my father about fencing? He was very keen on it when I was a child.”

  “Really? Uncle Reggie? I had no idea.”

  “I ought to write him a letter. How is he?”

  “He’s doing well. He and Aunt Winnie just got a new cat. They’ve called it Baroness von Cuddlepaws. I hope they never have to say that name in public . . . Is something wrong?”

  For a brief moment, I thought I might have seen a pained expression on Miss Gaunt’s face.

  “Nothing at all,” she said, producing a paper fan from her sleeve and flicking it open to fan herself—which only made her seem more agitated. “Although . . .” She sighed to herself. “You call Father and Mother by their names, but you continue to call me ‘Miss Gaunt.’ Are we still strangers?”

  At first I didn’t know what to say. “Of course we’re not strangers. I didn’t realize you felt that way. Certainly I can call you Elspeth. Or Ellie, if you prefer.”

  Her usual blank expression was back in place when she nodded and said, “Ellie will do just fine.”

  “Ellie it is,” I said. “And of course, you must call me Ollie. Ha, Ellie and Ollie. What a pair, huh?”

  No response came from her this time. She was staring intently at something out of the window.

  “We need to move,” she said, putting her hand on my shoulder.

  “What did you see?” I asked, but she just urged me toward the meeting room. As I stumbled, I heard the sound of cracking wood from downstairs and the voice of the woman at the reception crying out before going silent. Several men, including Mr. Scant, rose to their feet the moment they saw us burst through the meeting room door.

  “Intruders!” I yelled.

  Miss Cai was already pushing herself to her feet. “How many?”

  “Unconfirmed,” Ellie said. “At least four, but I think many more.”

  “Dammit, Frederickson, what is this?” yelled the American man. The younger men, most of them bodyguards or Scotland Yard agents, reached for weapons, but then three of them turned pistols on their opposite numbers across the table. There was a lot of shouting and swearing in different tongues. Mr. Jackdaw attempted to dash for a side door, but someone in black pushed his way through it and pointed a revolver at him. At the same moment, the intruders from downstairs reached the main door, and Ellie pushed me back protectively. A number of men surged in, all in black three-piece suits and all armed. One made note of us in the corner and took up a position where he could keep an eye on us.

  “Let’s be calm and see what they want,” Sir Frederickson said, a snarl on his lips. He was looking askance at one of the young men from Scotland Yard. The young agent must have turned traitor, because he was aiming at his superior with one of two pistols. He pointed the other at an Austro-Hungarian bodyguard with a revolver of his own.

  “Sensible as always, Sir Frederickson,” came the voice of a young man who swept in behind the others, removing his top hat. He was dressed in finer clothes than the others, almost like a dandy—a navy blue Inverness greatcoat, with his black hair worn long and swept back fashionably. He was a young man, only seventeen or eighteen, clean-shaven with a lean, handsome face and heavy brows. I recognized him instantly, even though I had only seen him once before, on the streets of Paris.

  “Good day to you all,” he said smoothly. One of his men brought him a chair so that he could sit at the table.

  I wasn’t the only one to realize who he was. In the chaos, Mr. Scant had somehow managed to put on his claw, and he made no move to conceal it. But rather than rushing at one of the intruders, he lowered himself back into his chair. “If it isn’t young Master Binns,” he said.

  Aurelian Binns grinned like a wolf. “The very same.”

  V

  Diamonds and Photographs

  Frederickson’s eyes widened as Aurelian Binns leaned back in his chair and put his boots up on the table. Two men stood close behind him with black coshes while others continued to hold their guns ready.

  “What a pleasure, to finally be amongst such esteemed company,” Aurelian said, running a hand back through his hair. “It was a shock not to receive an invitation.”

  “Who is this?” demanded Sir Frederickson. “This is an outrage.”

  “You remember the debriefing on the Woodhouselee Society affair, sir?” Mr. Jackdaw answered. “This is Roland Binns’s son, Aurelian.”

  “How did you get in here?” Sir Frederickson snapped.

  “I asked nicely. But of course, how is such a small-minded question. Rather, you should want to know why. Hello, Mr. Scant. Master Diplexito. What a peculiar thing to wear.”

  Mr. Scant stayed silent, so I did the same, while Ellie stepped in front of me. There was contempt under Aurelian’s smile, but also the confidence of one who felt completely protected.

  “So tell us why you’re here and what you want,” the Egyptian representative said.

  “Just one moment, Mr. Bashi, if you please,” Aurelian said. “One of us here has an inclination toward sudden and rather mindless violence. Mr. Scant, please have a look at this photograph. Careful now—it’s a little old.”

  He took his feet down from the table and slid a small photograph over to Mr. Scant. I couldn’t make it out well from where I stood with Ellie, but I thought I could see a building in the picture. Mr. Scant took a deep breath as he looked upon it, his expression darkening.

  “I know you won’t need me to explain,” Binns said. “And now, ladies and gentlemen—to business. I want to make it clear, very clear, that this little project you’re putting together, this, ah, endeavor—it will not happen. An international police force, all nations cooperating. No, no, it will never work. I’m against it. Policing a state is one thing, but the world? That’s called authoritarianism. A long word, I know, but those of us with only an American education can look it up later.”

  The American representative bristled but said nothing.

  “Besides,
suppose you all manage to put your differences aside, forget all about who killed who in the last war and whose spies will be the first to exploit this new arrangement. Even then, I’m afraid there’s another conflict of interest when it comes to international police. That would be between you and me—and my many partners and associates. If you start chattering to one another about this criminal here and his links to that group there, why, that would make things much harder for me. So I’ve made it my business to ask you—nicely—to stop. Half of you will probably be at war with the other half by the time you get the idea up and running, in any case.”

  “How does a boy like you think he will stop us?” growled the Frenchman.

  “Disruption, m’sieur,” Aurelian said, his white teeth flashing again. “I don’t deny your combined resources would outstrip almost any force in the world. And if my men and I decide to attack your organizations, no doubt we will be beaten, foiled, even locked away. But each time, you’ll encounter more disruption—and with that, more repairs, more to pay. It will cost you too much to keep trying and trying.”

  “Criminals can’t stop the progress of justice,” said Miss Cai. “The world is ready for international cooperation, and there’s too much for us to gain for you to stop us forever.”

  “I don’t need to stop you forever, though I rather hope I do,” Aurelian said, looking at his nails. “But in hundreds of years, you’ve never been able to achieve international cooperation, much less maintain it. Do you know who has perfected it? Those of us who work from the shadows. Secret societies the world over are connected in ways you’ll never understand.”

  “Criminals, you mean,” said Ellie.

  “Criminals indeed, for what is a criminal but one who rejects control, the rule of law? We can run rings around any joint police force you cobble together, and we will. But nobody wants to make more effort than we have to, so can we all agree that the idea’s unnecessary? Leave the whole unpleasant business behind us?”

  “Run rings around us?” repeated the American. He laughed raucously. “This little dude comes in here, making big claims, and he hasn’t even started shaving yet. Why are we taking him seriously?”

  “What’s a dude?” I whispered to Ellie.

  “I can understand why you would have doubts,” Aurelian said. “So here’s what I’ll do. I’m going to follow one of the feats of the Ruminating Claw—I’m sure you’ve heard of him. As all the world knows, that man was my father.” He gave a chuckle with no humor in it and looked directly at Mr. Scant’s claw, still resting on the table.

  “Yes, the famous Claw, we all read, not only plucked the Sword of Mercy from amongst the Crown Jewels in the Tower of London, but put it back again a day later without anyone catching him. What a feat.” His eyes narrowed. “Sons do like to outdo the feats of their fathers. So I shall do one better. I’m going to take the King’s Sceptre with Cross. You know the one. Not so long ago, our beloved king had the largest diamond in the world added to it.

  “I have a buyer, you see, who I’ve arranged to meet on a very expensive voyage bound for America. He’s going to take the diamond back to Africa—I’m helping to return it home! How kind of me. And the funds I accrue will make quite the difference for my new society over in France. Ah, it will be a glorious thing, the birth of a true international power. Rising again, like the proverbial third day. That’s a good name, isn’t it? The Third Day Society.” He paused for effect, but nobody said a word, so he continued.

  “Let it be a test, then. A theft in London, a buyer from the Union of South Africa, a voyage bound for America, the proceeds going to France. Your country, your country, yours, and—well, a colony under your jurisdiction. A suitably international stage, wouldn’t you say?”

  The American was not impressed. “You don’t scare me. You don’t scare any one of us around here. Why don’t we just shoot you now?”

  “Well, Mr. Carr, you could. But I think you’re all going to want to exit this meeting room very quickly.”

  It was then that Ellie’s hands squeezed tighter on my shoulders. I looked back and saw her sniffing the air. That’s when I smelt it too, and stared in alarm at the rivulets of black smoke creeping in under the door.

  “Ha, you’ve noticed,” Aurelian said with a smile. “Perfect timing. Don’t anybody move. My men and I are the guests here, so I hope you will be polite enough to let us depart first.”

  “Noticed what exactly?” said Sir Frederickson.

  “Burning,” I said. “I think the building’s on fire.”

  VI

  A Picture from the Past

  one of you move an inch,” Aurelian said, deadly serious for the first time. He lifted one finger, at which his men tensed, ready to fire their pistols. Nobody moved.

  “We’ll be going ahead of you,” said Aurelian. “Now, you may already be thinking about what to do when we begin to exit. How to pursue us, the best moment to catch us, how to signal that these bodyguards should protect your man while you give chase. So that’s why this is necessary.”

  For a moment, I saw Mr. Scant pushing himself away from the table—then I flinched at the deafening sound of pistols. Someone was screaming in pain, a deep, guttural, desperate sound. But all I could see was the men in suits filing out. Then Aurelian himself was before me in the corner, pausing to smirk. He looked at me with the same hatred I remembered on his father’s face. Then he was gone.

  “Should we go after him?” Ellie said, helping Miss Cai to her feet. I tried to assist them, but Miss Cai only asked if I was all right. When I nodded, she turned to Ellie.

  “We need to get out of here. And take the injured with us.”

  “Injured?” I said, looking over to the table. A few of the old men were groaning and clutching at their thighs—shot in the legs, to slow us down. Mr. Scant had taken one of Sir Frederickson’s arms on his shoulder, helping him to stand.

  “Mr. Scant, what should I do?” I asked.

  “Make sure the route is clear,” said Mr. Scant. “We’ve got four injured. They tried to get me too, but I was ready for it. Go.”

  Miss Cai urged Ellie to go with me. Ellie insisted she’d be back to help as soon as the way was clear, and then we set off after Aurelian and his men. There was no sign of them, save for the rapidly thickening smoke.

  “What do we do if we catch up to Aurelian?” I said.

  “It’s unlikely,” said Ellie, no trace of fear in her voice. “If we do, we cannot fight them all. So we stay back until we can make sure the others have a way out.”

  We rushed down the stairs and found the secretary lying back in her chair, unconscious. In the corners of the hall, the fire was spreading to the bookshelves and the old clock. Aurelian’s men had dropped oily rags behind them to help feed the flames.

  “We have to help her,” I said.

  “The route first,” Ellie said.

  I nodded, but I stopped after just one step. “We can’t just leave her with the fire.”

  Ellie looked back at me as though I had been speaking another language. She sighed and said, “I’ll get her ready. You check our route. I’ll see if there’s a way through the old main doorway, though since we all had to come through that tunnel, I assume it’s been permanently blocked.”

  “All right,” I said, and hurried down the steps into the basement passage. Nothing was aflame down there, but the heat was unbearable. I ran until I reached the public house next door, and when I hurried up the steps, I saw a terrible scene. The place was wrecked, glass bottles smashed everywhere, tables and chairs strewn over the floor and nobody in sight. With all that spilled alcohol, the place would be an inferno soon enough.

  I checked the pub’s window to make sure Aurelian’s men weren’t waiting for us in the courtyard outside, then tried the door. Locked. I knew that in my current state of mind, I’d take too much time to pick the lock. I would have to break the big window.

  I grabbed an unbroken bottle of gin that lay on the floor and threw it with all my st
rength—but the window didn’t break. Stepping closer to see if I’d at least cracked the glass, I met someone’s eye and ducked out of sight. But there was no need to hide. It was a fearsome face but a welcome one—the scarred, fiercely intelligent face of Dr. Mikolaitis, Mr. Scant’s oldest ally.

  He gestured for me to stand back. A moment later, a brick smashed through the glass. Then the doctor was up on the sill, his gloved hands pushing out the remaining shards.

  “What happened?” he said.

  “We were attacked,” I said, “by Aurelian Binns.”

  “Not exactly a surprise,” he said. “Where’s Scant?”

  “Helping the others. We have to help them too.”

  “You wait outside.”

  “No. I can still help. Maybe more than you can.”

  Dr. Mikolaitis gave me a stern look, his hand going to the shoulder where he had been shot the year before. But he nodded.

  “This way,” I said, and led him back to the secret meeting house. The fire was completely out of control, and there were shouts and cries from the men trying to get the injured down the stairs as we arrived. Ellie was struggling with the receptionist, while Miss Cai stood at the top of the stairs with her walking sticks, shouting instructions.

  “Dr. Mikolaitis, help her!” I said. The doctor was a strong man, but he grunted in pain as he knelt to pick the woman up and put her over his shoulder.

  “Are you okay? Your wound . . .”

  “It’s . . .” Dr. Mikolaitis began, but he didn’t finish. “Just help me stand.”

  Ellie I helped support the receptionist’s weight as the doctor got to his feet. A little unsteadily, he made for the stairs.

  I hurried to Mr. Scant and told him the way was clear. He nodded, bounded up the steps, and grabbed Miss Cai’s walking sticks, tossing them to me to catch.